


Tell Me About Anders

by Felixbug



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Transphobia, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5020237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felixbug/pseuds/Felixbug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris Trevelyan has questions for the Champion</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me About Anders

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of Breaking the Silence continuity, I'll probably expand on this a lot when I get to this point in the series. Anyway, works on its own - my Hawke is in a friendmance with Anders and Justice, and is extremely pro-mage. Kris is... well, the fic covers most of his beliefs. Brief mention of the early part of the Cullen/Inquisitor romance, but it ends.

“Tell me about Anders.”

Kris isn’t sure why he asks, the words tumbling out before he can stop himself. The Champion grits his teeth, and Kris recognises the look of a man who’s been asked the same damn questions too damn many times. But the look fades fast, and he nods.

“It’s not like the minstrels make it out to be,” Hawke says, and he looks as if there’s a bitter taste in his mouth. “He’s not just a monster or a hero. Or maybe he’s both. He was trying to change the world – he knew it couldn’t happen peacefully.”

“Evidently not,” Kris says shortly. He gestures to the scars on his face and scowls. “Did he think about the mages who’d be stuck fighting his war for a second?”

“Yes.” Hawke runs his fingers through his hair, and looks as if he wants to say more – but he doesn’t. Not that day.

***

“Tell me about Anders.”

Hawke looks up from the letter and his drink, and nods slowly. He gestures to the seat next to him and Kris sits, tapping his fingers on the bar.

“Another audience with Lady Trevelyan,” Hawke says bitterly, but he notices when Kris flinches, the way no one else ever seems to, and pauses.

“Just Kris,” he says. “Never been keen on titles.”

“I see that.” Hawke looks as if he might have questions, but he doesn’t ask them. The panic rising in Kris’s throat subsides. “We went over this. What do you want me to do – apologise for him?”

“I want to hear it in your words, not Varric’s.”

Hawke looks impressed at that, and gives a slow, sideways grin before taking another sip of his drink. He folds the letter carefully – more gently than Kris has ever seen him move –and tucks it away inside his shirt.

“That obvious?” He shrugs. “Varric might have mentioned to me that I’m surrounded by the forces of the _Herald of Andraste_ and I should keep any _radical_ opinions quiet. The truth then?”

“Yes.”

“The way things ended in Kirkwall broke my heart – but not for Elthina, not even for the _innocents_ who’d let people like Anders and my sister be dragged away in chains for years.” Hawke’s voice is rough, and his knuckles whiten where he grips his glass. “If you ask me there wasn’t half enough blood spilled that night. I’d start with that _Commander_ of yours if I could do it all again, and in the end it was Anders who told me that we’d done enough and it was time to walk away. It’s the fact that a bloody _healer_ had to go that far just to get to live the way he deserved to.” Hawke shoves his drink away with a growl. “You want to know about Anders? He’s a better man than me. A better man than I deserve. And he was right.”

“How can you _say_ that?”

“Because you deserve more than this – even if you’re not ready to see it.” Hawke’s eyes narrow. “You’re asking the wrong questions, Kris. You’d learn more if you asked me to tell you about Cullen.”

Kris swallows, and realises he’s scared to speak. The Commander’s attention has been flattering, even though he knows it’s for the woman Cullen thinks he is, not for him. The truth is he feels safer with a Templar watching him – it’s all he knows, it’s all he knows how to _want_ , and he realises that this is the first time anyone’s ever made him wonder if that’s wrong. He orders a drink, swallows it as his hands shake, and a little while later, he’s ready to ask.

***

“Tell me about Anders?”

Kris’s face is tear-streaked as Hawke guides him in to the rooms he’s been provided, and sits him down with a concerned frown. He hands him a glass of water – probably for the best, Kris knows he’s drunk too much. Two drinks to stomach the conversation with Hawke, another three before he could face Cullen, and half a bottle of wine since. He’s asking the wrong question again, but if he’s going to question everything he’s ever known, he supposes repetition is inevitable. He rests his head in his hands, feeling the rise and fall of the scars across his face, and bursts into tears.

“What do you want to know?” Hawke asks gently.

“How he stopped w-wanting them to _approve?_ ” Kris’s nails dig into his scalp. “How he stopped being so – fucking – scared.” His chest tightens and he hunches in on himself. “Maker – how he lived like this?”

“He hated his magic too, I think. A long time before I met him.” Hawke hesitates for a moment, but Kris is glad of the hand on his shoulder when Hawke finally places it there. “I don’t think it’s meant to be quick or easy. It took him almost two decades to escape the Circle, and I don’t just mean the actual running away. It...” Hawke sighs. “Truth is, without Justice, I don’t know if he’d have _ever_ learned not to be afraid of his magic. The Chantry’s big on self-hate.”

“As if I didn’t have enough to start with.” Kris laughs bitterly. “You know if he’d – if he’d told me himself. About the _Tranquil solution,_ about what he – what he ignored, what he allowed – the orders he followed and the – the orders he gave.” Kris dashed away his tears and shuddered. “If he’d admitted to it I think I’d have _understood._ I’d have forgiven him. Is that awful?”

“It’s what you were taught.” Hawke’s voice was rough. “You grow up thinking they have the right, and that you deserve it for how you were born. Three years in the Circle and even Beth was making excuses for them – I can’t imagine what growing up there does to you.”

“I hated it,” Kris says, and it’s the first time he ever has. Even to himself. “I hated the Templars. I hated the locks on the doors and the Tranquil’s blank faces and – and friends disappearing and never coming back. I hated every kid they found dead by their own hand and I – I fucking _hated_ that it was never me.” He swallows another sob and straightens up, finally meeting Hawke’s eye. “I’m nothing like Anders. I never tried to escape.”

“You’re out now,” Hawke says, and Kris nods. He is. Almost.

***

“Tell me about Anders.”

They’re leaving for Adamant tomorrow, and it’s the wrong time for this conversation, but this is Hawke – and by now Kris trusts him more than anyone else. Hawke raises his eyebrow at the old question – it’s come out of nowhere after an evening drinking with Bull and his Chargers, and Kris can feel him wondering if they’re not past this by now.

“You said he was a healer,” Kris says, trying not to feel the fear coiling in his chest. This isn’t something he speaks aloud – not ever, not to anyone. “Could he – could he fix anything?”

“No one’s that good. Why, you sick?”

“Yeah.” Kris swallows. “Yeah, I – I don’t know. Could he heal Krem?”

Hawke glares – Kris hasn’t seen him furious since that first day on the battlements, and he flinches instinctively. He doesn’t handle anger well, even now, with the Circle far behind him, he expects consequences. None come, but Hawke sounds so disappointed when he speaks, it’s almost worse.

“There’s nothing wrong with Krem,” he says. “Thought he went over that enough.”

“He’s not happy.”

“Seems happy enough to me.”

“He _can’t_ be happy.” Kris’s nails bite into his hands. “He _can’t._ You don’t – you don’t live with something like that without it ripping you up every day. Every time you look at yourself, or hear yourself, or wonder why you can’t even recognise yourself in a mirror.” He’s panicking and the words are a mess, blurred and cut with sharp breaths and he sees Hawke’s expression change and knows he can’t back out now. “When they call you _Lady_ like it’s respectful and it just feels like a knife in the gut you can’t – you can’t be happy like that.”

“Hey – shit, Kris, hey.” Hawke’s hand is on his arm again. “Does anyone else know?”

“They can’t.” He forces himself to meet Hawke’s eye. He’s come far enough for that, at least. “Do you know what they’d have _done_ in the Circle if they knew? The only thing that changes a body that much is blood magic – they wouldn’t have waited to give me the chance to slip.”

“You’re not in the Circle anymore.”

“I will be, when this is all done.” Kris shakes him off. “You don’t fucking _get it_. I’m not an apostate. I never was. When they call us back I’ll go because that’s what I do. And when I do I’ll be Lady Trevelyan for the rest of my life because the other option is to be no one at all, just another Tranquil without a name.”

“I’m not going to let that happen.”

“Then fix me,” he begs. “ _Fix me._ ”

***

“Tell me about Anders.”

Hawke turns with a grin as he finishes loading his horse’s saddlebags, watching Kris approach. He pushes his hair out of his eyes and shakes his head with a chuckle.

“I think I’ve told you everything there is to know.”

“I suppose I want to know how he’ll take the news?” Kris says. “I know nothing’s official – but with my backing, and if she keeps her promises…”

“Relief, I’d expect. Forgive me, but I won’t say anything to him until it is. Until there’s a declaration in every Chantry _promising_ the mages are safe, I’m not giving him false hope.”

“Of course.”

“He’d have loved to meet you,” Hawke says. “He’d be – I don’t know if it’s patronising to say he’d be proud of everything you’ve done, but fuck it, he would.”

“Not patronising. I – how in the Void did I end up wanting to hear _that_?” Kris laughs and shakes his head. “Would you thank him? When you see him again?”

“What for?”

“The obvious?” Kris grins. “None of this would have been possible without what he did. I know nothing’s certain yet but – look, if they _do_ reinstate the Circles, I won’t go. Not without a fight.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“And – thank you.” Kris shifts awkwardly – it’s still hard to talk about, but he’s getting there. He spends more time in the tavern with the Chargers than he used to, and no one calls him Lady Trevelyan any more. He’s taking steps slowly, and some days are harder than others – but he’s a thousand miles from where he started. “You’ve not seen me at my best.”

“Don’t know that I’d say that.” Hawke shoots him that lopsided grin he’s become so fond of. “I mean – I’ve seen you covered in spider guts, so I can understand why you might think I’d not had the best impression of you…”

“Don’t remind me.”

“But it’s been a pleasure, Lord Trevelyan.” Hawke holds out his hand and Kris takes it, squeezing perhaps a little harder than is necessary. He’s not alone here, and he knows he can manage to finish this without Hawke, but it’s still hard to see him go. “I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

“Maker willing.”

“Fuck the Maker.” Hawke smirks. “He doesn’t get to decide the future. We do.”

 


End file.
